


Helpless to Resist

by goingtothetardis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cut on the hand, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 16:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/pseuds/goingtothetardis
Summary: The Doctor finds himself under the care of Rose Tyler.





	Helpless to Resist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellostarlight20](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarlight20/gifts).



> Hellostarlight20 prompted: Rose and the Doctor of your choice, canon or AU. “Why the hell are you bleeding!?”
> 
> Thanks to Jeeno2 for some feedback.

“Why the hell are you bleeding?” Rose grabs the Doctor’s hand and scrutinizes the deep scratch on his palm. Cradling his hand gently in hers, her finger ghosts the outer edge of the wound, careful not to touch. 

The Doctor pulls his hand back and wipes it on his jeans. “‘S nothing, just a small flesh wound. Quick healer, me. Should be healed in a few hours.”

“Doctor,” Rose protests, “I don’t care. You’re bleeding. What happened?” Despite his obvious reluctance to give in, the Doctor sighs and holds out his hand for Rose’s continued inspection.

“The TARDIS didn’t seem to like me fixing the time phase oscillator, so she shocked me,” the Doctor explains, avoiding her gaze so she can’t read the full truth on his face.

Rose studies the Doctor for several moments, and the Doctor shifts his weight from one foot to another. Her gaze then shifts to the console, and her brow furrows. “No, the TARDIS wouldn’t hurt you like that. She just shocked you, yeah?”

The Doctor sighs, knowing he’d been daft to think Rose wouldn’t see right through his attempts to avoid the truth, and much to his annoyance, the TARDIS rotor pulses with amusement at Rose’s observation. “I…” He pauses, closing his eyes, knowing how very _not_ impressive he’ll sound when he reveals what really happened. “I tripped on a spanner, and when I fell, my hand fell on a part of the grating I pulled up.” Realizing Rose still holds his hand, he pulls it back, suddenly feeling somewhat shy and sheepish. “But I’m fine, Rose. Will be good as new before you know it.”

Rose bites her lower lip as though forcing back a grin and rolls her eyes. “‘Course you’d say that.” Reaching for his good hand, she tugs him toward the corridor. “But impressive biology or not, your hand needs cleaned and bandaged.” Before he can open his mouth to protest, she continues. “And no arguin’, Doctor.”

* * *

The Doctor watches in silence as Rose gently dabs his hand with a soft cloth and cleans it with the same wound cleanser he’d used on her when she’d cut her finger on one of his tools a few weeks earlier. Her face scrunches up in concentration, and the Doctor’s experiences an unfamiliar surge of warmth in his hearts as Rose tends to his injury. 

With anyone else, he’d have scoffed and dismissed their concerns, but Rose… He’d been helpless to resist her desire to tend to his wound, hardly daring to refuse her commands when he saw that fiery Tyler determination flash in her eyes. Her concern for his well being is a foreign sensation to him, but much to his bewilderment, he welcomes it gladly. 

Suddenly, without meaning to, he reaches up with his free hand and tucks a stray piece of hair behind Rose’s ear. With a quiet gasp, she stops and raises her eyes, wide and surprised, to his. He’s distracted as he watches his fingers move to gently graze against the line of her jaw and is strangely pleased at the way her eyes darken slightly and how she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. 

The air between them sparks with energy, but the Doctor swallows down his undeniable interest and clears his throat, breaking the moment. His hand falls limply to his lap, briefly flexing tightly around nothing, and his hearts almost stop in his chest when he sees the small flash of disappointment in Rose’s eyes. 

Rose returns her attention to wrapping a bandage around his hand, and the Doctor feels compelled to say something, anything. “Thank you, Rose.” His voice comes out a little gruff, lower than he intended. 

“‘S alright, Doctor. Reckon you don’t have anyone to take care of you, so now it’s my turn.” She gently squeezes his wrist before pulling back to put away all the supplies. 

The Doctor considers what she’s said and replies with a bit of a bite to his words. “You’re not my caregiver, you know. That’s not why I invited you along.”

Rose sighs and rolls her eyes. “I know that, Doctor. But I’m your friend. And you took care of me when I was hurt, so I’ll take care of you when you get hurt. It’s what friends do. I _want_ to help you.”

Staring at Rose for several long moments with an intensity that makes her blush, the Doctor decides to listen to her. She _had_ said, “better with two,” and really, it is. So instead of arguing with a healthy amount of deflective sarcasm, the Doctor simply nods and takes her hand, once again marveling at how well they fit together. 

“Fair enough,” he says, sending a wry grin in Rose’s direction. She squeezes his hand in response but doesn’t let go, following his lead as he walks them back to the console room. 

It crosses his mind, then, that he might be in trouble – the kind of trouble caused by a woman’s smile and selfless compassion – but that kind of trouble is easier to handle than an invasion of Daleks, right?

Right?

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at goingtothetardis.tumblr.com!


End file.
